sunny, cool in the shade, but warm in the sun
Quite a nice day, but have the wrong clothes! Got tired of lugging the suitcase everywhere so just before we left Montreal on Tuesday morning I took a bunch of clothes out of my suitcase, dumped them into a canvas bag and decided that was good enough. Seems bringing to bear that sort of judgement doesn't exactly work. Not enough socks, no skirt, one sweater. Completely forgot my jewelery case. Oh well.
I've learned the four most important things that must NOT be forgotten when traveling are:
1) Michael
2) passport
3) plane tickets
4) tweezers
Everything else is just icing.
My older brother Rob, his wife Audi and their youngest child (now 23) Sarah - all from Edmonton -came over to our hotel for drinks, hors d'oeuvers, and dinner last night - but we ate so many nibblies no one was hungry. Had a great time and chance to get caught up.
This morning youngest brother Doug, met us all in the lobby of the hotel and we went out for breakfast - then we headed out to visit (at Sarah's suggestion - kind young woman) our mother's grave. Spent an embarrassing half hour driving around and around the cemetary, not sure where the grave was. I was pleased we were at least in the right cemetary. As you might gather we don't visit often. No reflection on how much we loved our mother - more a reflection of our beliefs that her body's gone and what matters is with us always. Still, it was nice to visit - and felt very good to actually find her.
In fact, before she was interred (and after she'd been cremated) Michael and I took some of the ashes and spread them into the elder bush on the island in our pond. The elder bush is supposed to be ancient and a symbol of wisdom. I'm sorry to say dumping ashes on it didn't do it any good and it all but died itself, only coming back in the last year or so. Now it's flourishing. And I think of my mother when we see its strong limbs and green leaves.
Then Audi, Sarah and I went shopping while the guys went about their own business - mostly to rest.
It's a fun family reunion - and how wonderful to genuinely love my family. And see the joy Michael gets from them. And how much affection and love they have for him.
Doug found an old photo album we didn't realize our mother had put together. Rob and his kids will get it, but for now it's in our hotel room and everyone's coming over in about half an hour for a drink and to go over it. I've already snuck a peek. Very touching to see our mother and father so young. And see the care they showered on us. The parties, the vacations. To see our grandparents again.
Must be off - have to get some hors d'oeuvers otherwise the love might evaporate. Speak to you all tomorrow. Doug's kids Brian, Roslyn and Charlie arrive tonight.
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
Friday, 19 September 2008
Thursday, 28 August 2008
When the time is right
mainly sunny, temps 24
Another beautiful day, though not sure any could match yesterday. Perfectly calm all day, and hot. Michael went for a swim. Really, these late summer days are stunning. Cool at night so great for sleeping, and hot in the day. Some trees are already turning. We have a bright red maple in the field and out the bedroom window we can see a tree turning orange. The light hits it in the morning and it looks like amber.
Had to take Maggie to the vet yesterday afternoon. She seemed to be limping more than usual. She hurt he back left leg last winter - the joint - and it's been deteriorating. Now the other leg is getting bad because it's taking all the strain. He gave us new pills. Mostly for pain. But she seems happy. Tail wagging, nose wet and cold. Eyes bright. Great appetite. She hops around the pond and loves it.
It's an interesting choice we have to make. Do we stop her from running and playing and doing pond walks so that there'll be less strain on the leg? Or do we let her do those things and run the risk of more damage sooner?
It's the classic quantity of life vs quality. We're under no illusions, though we'd like to be.
After loads of talks we decided to let her have her fun, and we'll do our best to manage the pain. Hers and ours. The little pills help, though. Yum.
We faced a similar issue with my mother a few years ago. She'd had an episode with her heart and I was there. I called her doctor and Mom got very angry. Told me it was none of my business. That took me back and I struggled with that.
Then I realized she was right. She had all her marbles. She could make informed decisions about her own life. It might not be my choice, but I had to respect hers.
She died six months later, quietly in her sleep. At home. The way she wanted. Too soon for us, but we don't get to choose. Just support.
We're hoping Maggie will tell us when she no longer wants to hop around the pond. But for now, we're all enjoying the beautiful weather and the great late summer.
This is an especially fun time for me since the fifth book is set at exactly this long Labour Day weekend in Three Pines. So I get to see if my descriptions of the weather, the garden, the smells, the sights are accurate.
We're off to North Hatley and lunch with Bernard and Patricia Lemieux. They worked with Michael on the study into Neuroblastoma. His book is about that seminal study and the shocking results. So we'll have lunch then head off to their lab...both Bernie and Pat are medical researchers.
Another beautiful day, though not sure any could match yesterday. Perfectly calm all day, and hot. Michael went for a swim. Really, these late summer days are stunning. Cool at night so great for sleeping, and hot in the day. Some trees are already turning. We have a bright red maple in the field and out the bedroom window we can see a tree turning orange. The light hits it in the morning and it looks like amber.
Had to take Maggie to the vet yesterday afternoon. She seemed to be limping more than usual. She hurt he back left leg last winter - the joint - and it's been deteriorating. Now the other leg is getting bad because it's taking all the strain. He gave us new pills. Mostly for pain. But she seems happy. Tail wagging, nose wet and cold. Eyes bright. Great appetite. She hops around the pond and loves it.
It's an interesting choice we have to make. Do we stop her from running and playing and doing pond walks so that there'll be less strain on the leg? Or do we let her do those things and run the risk of more damage sooner?
It's the classic quantity of life vs quality. We're under no illusions, though we'd like to be.
After loads of talks we decided to let her have her fun, and we'll do our best to manage the pain. Hers and ours. The little pills help, though. Yum.
We faced a similar issue with my mother a few years ago. She'd had an episode with her heart and I was there. I called her doctor and Mom got very angry. Told me it was none of my business. That took me back and I struggled with that.
Then I realized she was right. She had all her marbles. She could make informed decisions about her own life. It might not be my choice, but I had to respect hers.
She died six months later, quietly in her sleep. At home. The way she wanted. Too soon for us, but we don't get to choose. Just support.
We're hoping Maggie will tell us when she no longer wants to hop around the pond. But for now, we're all enjoying the beautiful weather and the great late summer.
This is an especially fun time for me since the fifth book is set at exactly this long Labour Day weekend in Three Pines. So I get to see if my descriptions of the weather, the garden, the smells, the sights are accurate.
We're off to North Hatley and lunch with Bernard and Patricia Lemieux. They worked with Michael on the study into Neuroblastoma. His book is about that seminal study and the shocking results. So we'll have lunch then head off to their lab...both Bernie and Pat are medical researchers.
Thursday, 31 July 2008
No answer
sunny, humid, temp 27
We're in Toronto. Got up at 4am - drove to Montreal and stopped briefly at the apartment there to see if Michael's suit was there...after searching every closet at home in country for it - twice. We kept thinking - where could we have left it? When was the last time Michael wore it? Did Gary take it?
It was hanging in the Montreal apartment - feel quite badly now about locking Gary in the basement as punishment. Oh well, I'm sure he can gnaw himself loose. He did last time.
Stopped at The 5th Wheel in Cornwall for breakfast, and a change of driver. Easy drive, though we skirted some pretty impressive thunderstorms. Amazing fork lightening off to our left. But it never hit us. Then sun came out around Kingston and we rolled into Toronto about 1pm
Just had lunch and will have a nap, then off to the funeral parlor (such an old-fashioned word, isn't it?) for the visitation. Having done this for my grandparents as well as mother and father I always think there is something kind of barbaric about the funeral rites. I agree there's a sense of closure - but what torture for the family! To have a sort of somber cocktail party in the same room as the deceased. Make small talk. Or crying everytime someone new arrives. I remember being so tired at my mother's I could barely stand. And I kept thinking, 'I have to call Mom and tell her how it went.'
That feeling lasted a long time. Have to call her about the delicates cycle in the dryer, about how to make Yorkshire pudding, about the roses now in bloom, about the great deals at The Bay. All the little things no one else would ever be interested in. Mom was.
I remember the first time I laughed after she died...I felt horrible. That took a while too - to know that life indeed goes on.
Mary and her family are going through that now. Poor ones.
We have tons of fudge for the kids. If Earl Grey tea is the opiate of the Anglos, as Peter says in Still Life, then candy is the gentle drug for kids.
Speak to you tomorrow. Funeral's at 11am, so will probably be later in the day.
We're in Toronto. Got up at 4am - drove to Montreal and stopped briefly at the apartment there to see if Michael's suit was there...after searching every closet at home in country for it - twice. We kept thinking - where could we have left it? When was the last time Michael wore it? Did Gary take it?
It was hanging in the Montreal apartment - feel quite badly now about locking Gary in the basement as punishment. Oh well, I'm sure he can gnaw himself loose. He did last time.
Stopped at The 5th Wheel in Cornwall for breakfast, and a change of driver. Easy drive, though we skirted some pretty impressive thunderstorms. Amazing fork lightening off to our left. But it never hit us. Then sun came out around Kingston and we rolled into Toronto about 1pm
Just had lunch and will have a nap, then off to the funeral parlor (such an old-fashioned word, isn't it?) for the visitation. Having done this for my grandparents as well as mother and father I always think there is something kind of barbaric about the funeral rites. I agree there's a sense of closure - but what torture for the family! To have a sort of somber cocktail party in the same room as the deceased. Make small talk. Or crying everytime someone new arrives. I remember being so tired at my mother's I could barely stand. And I kept thinking, 'I have to call Mom and tell her how it went.'
That feeling lasted a long time. Have to call her about the delicates cycle in the dryer, about how to make Yorkshire pudding, about the roses now in bloom, about the great deals at The Bay. All the little things no one else would ever be interested in. Mom was.
I remember the first time I laughed after she died...I felt horrible. That took a while too - to know that life indeed goes on.
Mary and her family are going through that now. Poor ones.
We have tons of fudge for the kids. If Earl Grey tea is the opiate of the Anglos, as Peter says in Still Life, then candy is the gentle drug for kids.
Speak to you tomorrow. Funeral's at 11am, so will probably be later in the day.
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